


Cosmopolitan

by purpletheory



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Determined Castiel (Supernatural), Gen, Masturbation, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is a bitch, Top Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22459348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpletheory/pseuds/purpletheory
Summary: Dean does a lot of staring. Castiel learns a lot from a Cosmopolitan magazine and Dean’s voice gets increasingly higher.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Cosmopolitan

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a post I saw on the Facebook page dedicated to Destiel regarding how to identify a homosexual. I changed it to simply ‘how to make someone fall in love with you’ but with the same steps. It’s a fever dream I wrote in 3 hours. This is my first Destiel fanfic. I don’t know how to add photos or I’d add it for reference.

He is the one who:

**1\. Is too nice to be true**

Dean dropped heavily into a broken lazyboy recliner he breathed in deeply and immediately choked. Grave dirt, gasoline fumes, and Sam’s shitty  attitude cloyed the air inside the abandoned trailer.

A hand was suddenly at his back as he doubled over and spit out the acrid tastes of the night’s victory. Dean knew it was Castiel due to the utter stillness at first and then the subtle thing sensation of someone who has never touched another person’s back and therefore had no idea how much pressure to use. Castiel was alwayshyper focused on making things perfect.

Castiel vanished from the room and the cold hand on his back disappeared abruptly. In one instant he returned to the room, faint sounds of wings rustling. An energy drink appeared in his vision and a deep grumbling voice panned, “I looked for what you call “go juice” but the closest replicate was this bottle of “full throttle” whose name I believe came from a vehicle-“

Dean cut the angel off mid sentence, his eyes watering from staring at cas without blinking, “Where did you go?”

“The ‘convenient store’,” Castiel responded, his brow furrowing.

Dean choked on his first sip of the drink and laughed.

Cas tilted his head and the air whooshed out of Dean yet again. He stood up, groaning as his knee popped before he sauntered toward the door. 

Unlocking the impala, distracted, he mused. Why would Castiel randomly give him an energy drink? Or better yet, why did he go looking for anything to give him in the first place? Dean tossed his weapons into the trunk and made a mental note to teach Castiel what “go juice” even was.

* * *

Castiel stepped smoothly between Dean and a huge man sporting a Hell’s Angels vest, his trench coat ever-looking out of place in any situation. The irony was not lost on Dean and even through his drunken state he smirked a little. This was apparently the wrong move as the much larger man suddenly lunged around Castiel. Dean didn’t have a chance to duck when his neck cracked back from the force of the punch. Dean crumpled to the floor, only barely holding his roiling stomach at bay. His vision began to blacken around the edges of his perception but he watched as Castiel picked the man up by his throat and threw him into the large oak bar. It was hard enough to smash into it and destroy the bottles of spirits behind it.

Dean fell into darkness. 

He awoke to the sound of Led Zeppelin riffing majestically in the track “Ramble on” and his own pounding headache.

He attempted to sit up, but his head thunked against something hard.

“Fuck!” 

He sat up slowly realizing as his neck muscles contracted that he had been lying on something soft with weird hard bits. He rubbed the indent of one on his jaw and gazed out the window. He sat in the impala on the passengers side. He glared at the steering wheel that he’d totally smashed his head into. Before he could begin berating himself in a frequent display of self-hatred, a detail in the driver’s seat snagged his attention. A tan bundle of fabric lay wadded up in what appeared to be an attempt at making a pillow for his head. He looked outside again and saw Castielwalking steadily towards the car with a dark colored can in his hands.

The wind tore at the angel’s tie, sweeping leaves and other fall accents to cling to his shirt and hair.

Dean briefly contemplated why Castiel would give him his coat to sleep on it if was so cold and windy? He felt lost and frustrated. Castiel was always logical, and this was becoming a case of the extremely illogical. Dean finally thought of the fact that angels might not even feel the cold. Castiel came steadily closer and Dean’s gaze stared until he made out the label on the can, the fierce eagle on it ever more visible. 

Dean’s mouth smiled and his heart clanged and his brain smothered itself.

* * *

** 2\. Wants to spend time with you alone **

Castiel returned to the hotel room with a bag clutched in his hand. He swept past dean without looking at him and marched up to Sam who sat on the bed watching Lilo and Stitch while loosely cradling a pillow. A haunted look lurked in his eyes.

Castiel thrust out the paper bag towards Sam. Dean sat up straighter from where he reclined on the pillows of the adjacent bed. Sam stared at Castiel in bewilderment, one hand rising slowly in a helpless gesture.

“In lieu of recent events as well as the killer clown sightings that have been reported throughout the nation; I have procured a solution to your childish fear.”

Sam opened the bag and took out a necklace made out of what appeared to be chinchilla hair, and studied it warily. 

“It’s irrational... not childish,” Sam’s bitch face crept across his face like the summer dawn. 

Castiel grabbed Sam by the arm and disappeared, leaving the room blank and airless. 

Castiel popped right back, but without one lumbering moose. 

He sat on Sam’s bed and said, “Do you know the only thing that angels and demons have in common.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel and then realized that Castiel was asking a question and not a statement regardless of his flat affect.

”No what is-“

“They don’t understand underwear.”

They spoke at the same time, Castiel’s low voice awkwardly stomping on Dean’s train of thought. 

Dean sat and stared. He then sat and stared more. He nodded, more confused than anything.

Castiel continued to sit on the bed, his posture uncomfortable, and stared back unblinkingly. 

“Sam must face his fear, and neither myself nor the heavens know how long he will be.”

Without skipping a beat, Cas said with (can you believe it) more awkwardness than any interaction that dean had ever witnessed, “I procured pie and the horror film,  zombies vs strippers. 

Dean’s mind emptied and he felt nauseated with how Castiel was suddenly acting. 

“The man at the ‘play store’ told me that this would be ‘right up your alley’, Castiel said as he tried and failed to use the DVD player. 

* * *

_ Meanwhile in Washington DC:  _

Sam stumbles from an alleyway onto a packed sidewalk. He swung wildly around, disoriented. A swear on his lips, he searched the crowd and surrounding area for a stoic man in a trench coat. He began walking intent on figuring out where the fuck he was so that he could go back to the hotel and kick some angel ass. 

He rounded a corner and shouts caught in his ears. A large group of people stood in front of... the goddamn Fucking White House.

After staring stupidly for several moments, he finally picked up the words being hurled across the grassy landscape towards the most important office in the country. 

“Kill the Clowns! Kill the clowns!”

A group of people dressed as clowns also shouted from a short distance away, “Clown Lives Matter!”

Themantra repeated itself and The corners of his lips twitched until finally Sam threw his head back and began to laugh so hard he cried. 

Back at the hotel, Sam rocked himself back and forth as Castiel turns on Lilo and Stitch again, an apologetic look on his face.

* * *

“Remember that one time when you bought zombies vs strippers at that.. uh “play store”? Dean glanced at Castiel quickly before turning back to continue changing the flat tire. Castiel nodded his head before tilting it to the side.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, haltingly asking, “What did you say to the man, uh, behind the counter... about me that made him say that that dvd was right up my alley?”

‘Alley’ was a high pitched squeak as Dean realized he had yet to breathe.

Dean continued to rub at his neck, a stripe of automobile grease spread across his throat.

Castiel tilted his head further and Dean finally met his eyes.

“I simply mentioned that it was a gift to a man I care for who likes action, explosions, cheap and (false) horror that doesn’t remind him of his every waking moment, and above all else, women with very small clothes.”

Dean’s mouth opened and then closed again. He suddenly felt beyond frustrated and opened his mouth once more to demand why the angel was being so fucking weird. Their eyes met and Dean couldn’t help comparing him to a hopeful dog waiting to be rewarded for something. Dean’s frustration melted into a throbbing weariness.

“Yea, Cas. You know me.”

Castiel lifted a hand to wipe away the grease.

* * *

Sam was perceptive, but not necessarily attuned to every subtle hint that Castiel exhibited when he wished to be alone with his brother. And as he shouldered his backpack in the middle of a peewee football match, He smirked and then sighed. Welp, there’s nothing for it, he thought, no use getting mad.

Sam gently shook off a peewee player from where he had been enthusiastically attempting to tackle his shin. 

Castiel sent him off to get, “Marion-berry pie”.

He asked an unfulfilled soccer dad where the supermarket was at and began trudging towards the town 7 miles away.

* * *

Dean stared at the back of the angel’s head as he strode purposefully into a potential werewolf den. 

“I need you to work on identifying  why  you can’t divide by zero,” Cas had said To Sam’s Ultra-Bitch face, “Dean and I will take care of this.”

Dean thought that Castiel might not like Sam very much anymore and it confused and saddened him. 

* * *

** 3\. Proposes they be roommates and sleep in the same bed **

“How much does a room at a hotel cost?” 

Dean pulled his troubling thoughts about his best friend and his brother to glance in the rear view mirror at the former. 

“Uh, maybe around $60 a night if you want locks on the doors, any towels, and a shitty pair of beds.” His eyebrow quirked up in question. 

“Oh, well Sam needs space for his research,” Cas murmured. “Would that be difficult for the ‘budget’, sounding the last word out as if he had just learned it from a second grader. 

Sam shook his head ‘no’ and dean could only imperceptibly nod back. 

* * *

The first time it happened Dean stumbled into the hotel room, dripping water and clay mud onto the carpet and flopped down on the carpet beside the closest bed. He closed his before cracking one open at the sound of tired springs. Cas laid on the bed next to him carefully, also coated in mud from the cemetery. 

Dean sat up, muscles protesting, “Cas, Man, you got the bed all dirty!”

Castiel’s eyes were bright and wide, “I am sorry, dean”, his tone suggesting he knew what the words meant but did not mean them at all.

Dean groaned but the thought of sleeping on the floor didn’t even cross his mind. One bed it is.

* * *

The second time it happened Dean woke up slowly. He individuallystretched his muscles, his brain fuzzy. As he arched his back he froze. His thoughts turned from a quiet stream to a raging river in seconds. 

Then his ears picked up the soft sound of someone close breathing deeply. 

He was in bed. With someone else. And that someone was...He shifted as slightly as he dared and his eyes became impossibly wider as he felt the rock hard length of a dick pressing into his ass. Dean continues to stay still and slowly rolled over to face the stranger, carefully avoiding the reminder of their morning wood. 

Instead of a stranger, he watched Castiel take slow breathes, his eyes closed. Cas opened an eye and his expression became guarded. 

“What happened, man?!” Dean’s voice turned embarrassingly shrill as he demanded information. 

Instead of immediately answering, Cas replies evenly, “ do you remember that time a few lunar months ago when we were covered in the dirt of the dead and I... accidentally laid on one of the beds and rendered it useless? He said ‘accidentally’ like he was unsure about how to use the word but was hopeful that it would fit.

Dean’s face warmed remembering how he scooted as far as humanly possible to one side of the mattress with his eyes shut tight.

* * *

_ He had heard Castiel return from the bathroom where he was cleaning up, or Whatever Angels did with earthly stains.   
God knows how fucked up the hotel plumbing will be when they leave. He could still feel the clay dirt on his skin even after three showers. _

_ The door squeaked quietly open, a light shining on the carpet in front of it. He heard the light switch click off as if it were the loudest sound in the world.  _

_ The bed dipped and for some fucking reason, Dean had gotten incredibly hard way too fast that he sucked in a pained breath.  _

_ Castiel pauses his descent to his pillow and glances at dean in worry, “Dean, are you-“  _

_ “I’m fine!” Dean yelped, pulled the Blakents off and swept a pillow off of the bed to hide his aching dick in one single movement. He practically ran into the bathroom and once inside he slammed the door shut and immediately leaned his back to it. His cock only pulsed in response, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he wrapped one hand around himself and the other on the faucet handle to his right. He began a furious pace as he fucked himself up into his own fingers, fingertips tightening right at the tip. His legs shook and it was only a matter of minutes until his orgasm hit. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the bathroom floor, hips still pumping and his back bowing in spasmodic euphoria. The last drops of cum slowly inched down his fingers, still wrapped around himself as his cock softened. He stared dazedly at the mess of jizz he had painted all over the floor. He hurriedly began to clean it up, using the still running faucet and a rag to mop it all up. He stared at himself in the mirror and the look on his face transformed from flushed and bright to concerned and hollowed. What was wrong with him.  _

_ Hefinally accomplished slipping back into the bed to only stare at the ceiling. Hid exhausted mind slipped into sleep as he mused that he would need to work on his squeaky voice around Castiel.  _

* * *

Dean flushed some more,and choked out, “Yes...”

“You had a nightmare that night.”

Dean’s face flushed, opening his mouth defensively to deny it but Castiel cut him off unhurriedly, “I believe that I helped ease it by touching you”.

Dean flushed true scarlet as he imagined touching Castiel in every sexual manner possible. 

Castiel moves on, “last night, you had one again and I got into your bed to soothe you.”

Dean didn’t even feel the defensive desire to deny any weakness as he stared at Castiel’s movements from laying down to curling his fist up and resting his chin on it, looking up at him. 

His lashes were so long. And his eyes-

“Fuck Cas, I don’t have any idea what the fuck you’re doing sometimes! You’re all weird and nice and I don’t understand what you getting at... what you gain from messing with me.”

Castiel was silent and as always, Dean kept talking, only being able to speak this deeply with Castiel and no one else. Not even his brother. 

“Did Sam put you up to this? Is that why you hate him now?”

Suddenly their door burst open and Sam himself came running in like a goddamn koolaid commercial, shouting that someone had stolen the Impala. 

Dean leaped into action as soon as ‘stolen’ and ‘impala’ permeated his brain. He hurriedly threw on his clothes, buckling his belt as he raced around the room. A small corner of his eye kept glancing at Castiel as the angel rose from the bed calmly. Castiel languidly put on his shirt and tie. As he shrugged into his coat he looked back at Dean who had frozen with one sock on his foot and one in his hand. Castiel flicked his eyes up and Down, face unreadable as per usual. 

Dean’s eyes snapped to anywhere but Castiel’s searing eyes and caught a flash of what could be described as a shit-eating grin on his brother’s face before Sam whirled around and marched outside.

* * *

** 4\. Writes you love notes as if to a stranger **

Three days after kicking the ass of a simple normal human waste of space for stealing his baby, Dean was detailing her in the bright sunshine in the outskirts of Atlanta.

Dean grumbled to himself periodically about having to fix a dent and a small scratch that were most likely there before that snot-nosed kid but it felt better to blame him anyway.

He pulled open the glove box and it’s overfilled contents immediately slowly down his anger as he remembered his family. He pulled out his dad’s old cell phone and held it in his hand. A scrap of white caught his gaze. Frowning he brought it out and inspected it.

A sealed letter from 18 years ago?? Addressed to him. There was no return address. He tore it open and fumbled with the paper inside. It was short and... well, sweet.

” _Someday you will be the most important man on earth. Someday you will meet me and I will throw myself at your feet in supplication.”_

It was also super creepy and oddly written. It seemed like a high school love note, a thing that Dean was fairly familiar with. 

Dean shuffled it back into the glove box as he heard Sam lumbering up behind him. Damn Sasquatch. 

* * *

Dean stumbled into the bar bathroom, it’s grimy interior doing nothing for his current rage and hatred. 

The bar had been filled with hunters. Hunters that ridiculed the choices he and his brother made. They advanced as they promised that he and his brother could die quickly or die slowly for their ‘crimes’.

Hunters that scoffed at heaven and it’s errant angel. 

At the words, “if your angel doesn’t stop messing with shit that don’t concern him, he’ll die with you too”,  Dean exploded, fist slamming into the face sneering closet to him.

Dean felt and heard the crack of his nose breaking before he started the most violent bar fight that Tillamook, OR had ever seen. 

Now, his head hanging low as he braced his hands on the sink edges, he let the hot water steam up and caress his bruised lip and cheek from the only lucky asshole to land a square kick. He hadn’t seen it coming while he was busy dislodging the teeth stuck in his knuckles. 

He finally raised his head, and then stumbled back, hands gripping the filthy walls. 

In the steamed glass of the mirror words spelled, _”_ _You look beautiful with a giant bruise on your face and your lip so cracked that you are drooling”._

Dean shook his head and left the bathroom and promised himself that he’d swear off absinthe forever.

* * *

** 5\. Directs the conversation to intimate matters. **

“So, what do you do to entertain yourself?”

Dean raised his eyebrows at Castiel who stared at him, unerringly, from the passenger seat of the impala. He had gotten somewhat used to this unpredictable, completely mind boggling things that Castielsaid and did. He was, however, still dumbfounded at least once a day. He had the responsiveness of Charles Xavier’s crippled legs when it came to answering Castiel’s weird ass questions.

“I like... to... eat?”

Castiel nodded as if it was a very important piece of information. 

“And what hand do you prefer to pleasure yourself with?”

Dean stomped on the brake before regaining control and swerving back into his lane on the busy highway.

“Jesus what the fuck, Cas!”

He stared at Castiel in horror and surprise but he had to look back at the road and keep his baby on it.

His brain went on vacation. Potentially packed all it’s things and left for good. Regardless, his mind was purely silent until he heard his voice croak out, “the left,” before flipping a dangerous u-turn back the way they had come because he missed their exit.

* * *

Castiel waited patiently behind Dean at the grocery store check out line. Dean glanced around but found that the small town store was mostly devoid of people. It seemed as it was also devoid of employees. His temper tapped at him as he watched the ancient cashier touch the register at the speed of a dead snail. He was about to call for someone else so that they could get back on the road.

“Sometimes, I have the strangest dreams about living life here on earth. Sometimes you and I are married, in the celestial sense also. Do you ever have strange dreams like this, Dean?”

Dean, now accustomed enough to being embarrassed by Cas (and Sam) in public, Dean turned towards the angel and asked, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

He immediately regretted the retort as he saw surprise, confusion, and hurt slowly crawl behind his eyes. He left his food on the belt and walked away, leaving Sam to purchase the necessities from his spot behind Cas. He caught a glimpse of Sam leaning down and whispering in Castiel’s ear. 

He sat in the impala with the radio volume up until Sam’s fingers rapped insistently against the glass. Sam could channel being a bitch in so many ways. 

He turned the volume up further, but he unlocked the car. 

Castiel sat in the back and Sam took the front seat, an arrangement recently the opposite. He saw Sam’s face go full Bitch face out of the corner of his eye but he avoiding his brother’s gaze and drove way too fast to their hotel. 

* * *

**6\. Wants to touch your private parts**

As soon as they pulled up at the hotel, Sam was out and at the reception desk, presumably getting the rooms. He wondered mutedly how he was going to face Castiel after being such a douchebag.

He knew that Castiel did not say or do things with malicious intent.

He was mulling over getting out and into the room without having to look at or talk to Castiel when hot breath tickled his ear and raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He surpressed a shiver and stayed stock still.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice fell into his ear like gravel pouring into a bucket, “Can we go inside now?”

Indeed, Sam stood in front of the impala exasperated bitch face in fine form as he jangled the room key in front of the windshield.

Sam went into room 24 and Dean opened room 25, his actions routine. Castiel walked into Sam’s room and the door closed. Dean stared at the cheap wood for several moments before he realized that he had dropped his bag in the doorway and a redhead in a skimpy dress swayed towards him from the car lot. He quickly swept into the room, throwing his bag haphazardly on the bed. The only bed.

Dean sat on it contemplating sleeping without Castiel in the room, or in the bed with him.

He shook his head to try and clear it when a knock sounded on the door. Realizing that the possible hooker had seen which room he was in and was probably trying to give him an offer. He waited for her to go away but she knocked again after a few moments. He eased up from the bed, his back cracking. He opened the door resignedly and immediately saw his assumption evaporate. Castiel stood with his back facing the open door, his hand on his hips, and glaring across the car lot at the woman in the dress. Dean blinked in surprise again when Castiel gestured with his pointer and middle finger towards his eyes and then jabbed them in the air at the hooker.

When the lady walked off shouting an insult, Castiel turned around. In his hand was a rolled up magazine, it’s edges frayed and cover crinkled with use. 

“Dean.” 

Dean immediately stepped back to allow the angel into the room. Castiel attempted to kick the door closed behind him but didn’t manage it the first time so he had to awkwardly do it again. The door clicked shut and Dean just sat on the bed, looking up at Castiel. 

Castiel had never been good with personal space and he showed it by walked up to dean so that he stood in between his legs. Dean automatically opened his stance wider in order to not touch the angel’s thighs. 

“Dean,” the angel said again his eyes sharp and focused. 

Dean wet his lips, noticing Castiel’s focus slip down to where his tongue peeked out. 

“C-Cas?” Dean stammered, hands making fists on his knees. 

“I want to touch your body all over until we both take pleasure together.” 

Dean made a high pitched whining in his throat as he stared at Castiel. In the past few months, he had been doing a hell of a lot of staring at the angel.

Castiel continued, ignoring his apparent meltdown, “I tried the things that Sam suggested and I followed tips from this piece of literature. Dean’s attention flashed to the pink cover of an old Cosmopolitan magazine boasting ‘6 steps to make someone love you in one month!’.

“However, Sam has mentioned that you do not understand where this is coming from and his first instructions were to ‘woo you’. In his words you are a, ‘Fucking idiot’. I have compiled my notes and thoughts into this magazine with small adhesive papers and pen. I am on a tight schedule so please make a decision quickly.”

Dean’s mouth was still open and Castiel trailed a finger up his neck and shut his jaw for him. 

“I am very prepared for this entire procedure including formulations for our future. I will allow you to read my notes and I will wait in the adjoining room until you have made a deliberation.”

Castiel turned to leave but Dean snapped his knees shut, pinning Castiel between them.

He let out a huge breath that he’d been holding since he first met Castiel. He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist and buried his nose into his wrinkled button up. Castiel didn’t move right away, but he then slipped one hand onto Dean’s neck and the other into his short hair.

Castiel let out a large breath also before Dean began to rise from the bed to stand. Castiel tried to step back from him to allow him room but dean held him close and his body slid over Castiel’s until their cocks met. Dean let out a low moan and after staring into Castiel’s wide eyes for longer than should be acceptable, he lowered his head to kiss him. 

Immediately he began to tear off Castiel’s clothes. His hands slipped up his back to hike up his shirt and then expertly slid them into the shoulders of that damned trench coat. As Castiel’s arms were pulled by removing the coat, Dean wasted no time in kissing up the angel’s neck, biting gently under his jaw. 

The angel let out a growl. It startled Dean at first but the sound quickly made a lasting impression on his dick. He slowly ground himself into Castiel as he deftly unbuttoned his shirt. He abruptly twisted them and unceremoniously shoved Castiel onto the mattress. He didn’t have time to revel in the lust and excitement that hovered in Castiel’s eyes as he quickly climbed on top of him and took one of his nipples in between his teeth. He considered himself a master at this, but to hear Castiel’s voice break on his name drove him to truly impress. He gently worried one nipple with his teeth before abruptly licking his way to the other one and sucking hard. Castiel bucked up underneath him and as he ground down on him, dean suddenly needed all of his clothes off and all of the angel’s on the floor. He fumbled for his belt and Castiel leaned up to help him which made it take longer, though Dean couldn’t care less if it was an awkward undressing. He touched Castiel’s hair as his cold hand slipped into his jeans. The first touch of Castiel’s ice cold hand sent a shock through him. He whined and pumped his hips. Suddenly they were both naked and Castiel flipped Dean onto his back. The sight of Castiel tangled in his legs and his flushed cheeks would forever be emblazoned in his mind. 

Castiel moves down his body, awkwardly biting or licked his chest and stomach. He settled in between Dean’s thighs and sucked hard on his inner thigh. Dean’s hips were slammed back into the bed by Castiel’s infinite strength as he cried out. Then Castiel opened his mouth and slipped Dean’s cock into his throat with apparent ease. Dean groaned loudly as Castiel’s lips met the base of his cock and made a humming noise. It was obviously foreign to Castiel at first but he watched dean’s face the entire time, Dean only able to glance down at him and see his eyes looking at him through his lashes and his cheeks hollowed out as he sucked lightly. As Castiel grew more confident he began to move faster his tongue slipping around the head of his cock. Suddenly Castiel sat up, his lips making a wet ‘pop’.Dean’s hips tried to follow him but Castiel just flipped him over onto his stomach with an ease that was unnerving. 

Dean gasped as he felt Castiel’s cold fingers propping up his knees and sliding over his balls to tease his hole. 

Dean shuddered and came, frantically rubbing himself into the starched sheets. 

Castiel slid two fingers coated with lube as he climaxed, causing him to shudder, wringing out his pleasure to the end. He had just caught his breath when Castiel pumped his fingers once, then without pause, he pushed a third finger in and gave a slight twist. Dean rocked back on his fingers and Castiel crooked his middle finger inside him. As the searing pleasure ripped through him, Castiel withdrew his fingers. He gave no time for Dean to whine at the empty sensation as Castiel’s cock pressed into him. He was slow, his hitching breath and gently rocking deeper into dean the only sign of his thin restraint.

Castiel’s shaft slid as far as he could go and dean shivered as his balls slapped against his perineum Castiel restraint disappeared and he began to thrust into him with hard stokes. Dean attempted to lift his ass and fuck back into Castiel, but Castiel just grabbed his hips and held him tight enough to leave bruises. His grip was like iron and as Castiel changed his angle, Dean lost his fucking mind. He came immediately, adding more jizz to the spread already beneath him. His legs couldn’t support him and he collapsed on his stomach. Castiel yanked his ankles back and fucked into him three more times before he stilled and Dean’s eyes widened when he felt hot cum fill him up. Castiel fell on his back and his breath in Dean’s ear had him jerking his hips into the mattress again. 

“God, where did you learn all of that?” Dean turned his face to look back at Castiel.

Castiel looked down at him with. small smirk painting his lips.

“My Name is Castiel, not God. And I learned it from the pizza man.”

* * *

They laid tangled together on the unceremonious pile of sheets and pillows.

Dean opened his eyes, his skin still tingling with aftershocks of pleasure. He glanced at the clock on the bed side table and he spied the worn out magazine next to it. 

He grabbed it and began to read. 

A highlighted section read ‘Make him fall in love in one month!’. Just like the cover. 

There were two sticky notes on the inside cover that read, “Dean likes pie, bacon, strippers, bad movies, and long pajama bottoms,” and “Dean dislikes faeries, witches, Starbucks, and when I sneak up on him.”

He flipped to another worn page. A scribble in the margin next to a column about ‘increasing intimacy with your partner’.

“Sam said that I should ask questions about Dean’s sexual behaviors in order to get closer to him.”

Dean scowled at Sam’s multi-level fuckery. 

He flipped to the last page were another note read, “Dean is still a ‘fucking idiot’ like Sam says, but I want him to be my ‘fucking idiot’.

Castiel nuzzled against his back. “It only took three weeks,” he said with pride.

Dean’s eyes crinkled with his grin, his heart leapt, and his brain called out, ‘Fucking Finally!”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment!


End file.
